CHAPTER IV.
A CONTEST OF ART AND A LEAGUE OF FRIENDSHIP.--TWO CHARACTERS IN MUTUALIGNORANCE OF EACH OTHER, AND THE READER NO WISER THAN EITHER OF THEM.
THE Abbe was now particularly courteous to me. He made Gerald and myselfbreakfast with him, and told us nothing was so amiable as friendshipamong brothers. We agreed to the sentiment, and, like all philosophers,did not agree a bit the better for acknowledging the same firstprinciples. Perhaps, notwithstanding his fine speeches, the Abbe wasthe real cause of our continued want of cordiality. However, we did notfight any more: we avoided each other, and at last became as civil andas distant as those mathematical lines which appear to be taking allpossible pains to approach one another and never get a jot the nearerfor it. Oh! your civility is the prettiest invention possible fordislike! Aubrey and I were inseparable, and we both gained by theintercourse. I grew more gentle, and he more masculine; and, for mypart, the kindness of his temper so softened the satire of mine that Ilearned at last to smile full as often as to sneer.
The Abbe had obtained a wonderful hold over Aubrey; he had made the poorboy think so much of the next world, that he had lost all relish forthis. He lived in a perpetual fear of offence: he was like a chemist ofconscience, and weighed minutiae by scruples. To play, to ride, to run,to laugh at a jest, or to banquet on a melon, were all sins to be atonedfor; and I have found (as a penance for eating twenty-three cherriesinstead of eighteen) the penitent of fourteen standing, barefooted,in the coldest nights of winter, upon the hearthstones, almost utterlynaked, and shivering like a leaf, beneath the mingled effect of frostand devotion. At first I attempted to wrestle with this exceedingholiness, but finding my admonitions received with great distaste andsome horror, I suffered my brother to be happy in his own way. Ionly looked with a very evil and jealous eye upon the good Abbe, andexamined, while I encouraged them, the motives of his advances tomyself. What doubled my suspicions of the purity of the priest wasmy perceiving that he appeared to hold out different inducements fortrusting him to each of us, according to his notions of our respectivecharacters. My brother Gerald he alternately awed and persuaded, by thesole effect of superior intellect. With Aubrey he used the mechanism ofsuperstition. To me, he, on the one hand, never spoke of religion, nor,on the other, ever used threats or persuasion, to induce me to followany plan suggested to my adoption; everything seemed to be left to myreason and my ambition. He would converse with me for hours uponthe world and its affairs, speak of courts and kings, in an easy andunpedantic strain; point out the advantage of intellect in acquiringpower and controlling one's species; and, whenever I was disposed to besarcastic upon the human nature I had read of, he supported my sarcasmby illustrations of the human nature he had seen. We were both, I think(for myself I can answer), endeavouring to pierce the real nature of theother; and perhaps the talent of diplomacy for which, years afterwards,I obtained some applause, was first learnt in my skirmishing warfarewith the Abbe Montreuil.
At last, the evening before we quitted school for good arrived. Aubreyhad just left me for solitary prayers, and I was sitting alone by myfire, when Montreuil entered gently. He sat himself down by me, and,after giving me the salutation of the evening, sank into a silence whichI was the first to break.
"Pray, Abbe," said I, "have one's years anything to do with one's age?"
The priest was accustomed to the peculiar tone of my sagacious remarks,and answered dryly,--
"Mankind in general imagine that they have."
"Faith, then," said I, "mankind know very little about the matter.To-day I am at school, and a boy; to-morrow I leave school; if I hastento town I am presented at court; and lo! I am a man; and this changewithin half-a-dozen changes of the sun! therefore, most reverend father,I humbly opine that age is measured by events, not years."
"And are you not happy at the idea of passing the age of thraldom,and seeing arrayed before you the numberless and dazzling pomps andpleasures of the great world?" said Montreuil, abruptly, fixing his darkand keen eye upon me.
"I have not yet fully made up my mind whether to be happy or not," saidI, carelessly.
"It is a strange answer;" said the priest; "but" (after a pause) "youare a strange youth: a character that resembles a riddle is at your ageuncommon, and, pardon me, unamiable. Age, naturally repulsive, requiresa mask; and in every wrinkle you may behold the ambush of a scheme: butthe heart of youth should be open as its countenance! However, I willnot weary you with homilies; let us change the topic. Tell me, Morton,do you repent having turned your attention of late to those graverand more systematic studies which can alone hereafter obtain youdistinction?"
"No, father," said I, with a courtly bow, "for the change has gained meyour good opinion."
A smile, of peculiar and undefinable expression, crossed the thinlips of the priest; he rose, walked to the door, and saw that it wascarefully closed. I expected some important communication, but in vain;pacing the small room to and fro, as if in a musing mood, the Abberemained silent, till, pausing opposite some fencing foils, which amongvarious matters (books, papers, quoits, etc.) were thrown idly in onecorner of the room, he said,--
"They tell me that you are the best fencer in the school--is it so?"
"I hope not, for fencing is an accomplishment in which Gerald is verynearly my equal," I replied.
"You run, ride, leap, too, better than any one else, according to thevotes of your comrades?"
"It is a noble reputation," said I, "in which I believe I am onlyexcelled by our huntsman's eldest son."
"You are a strange youth," repeated the priest; "no pursuit seems togive you pleasure, and no success to gratify your vanity. Can you notthink of any triumph which would elate you?"
I was silent.
"Yes," cried Montreuil, approaching me,--"yes," cried he, "I read yourheart, and I respect it; these are petty competitions and worthlesshonours. You require a nobler goal, and a more glorious reward. He whofeels in his soul that Fate has reserved for him a great and exaltedpart in this world's drama may reasonably look with indifference onthese paltry rehearsals of common characters."
I raised my eye, and as it met that of the priest, I was irresistiblystruck with the proud and luminous expression which Montreuil's look hadassumed. Perhaps something kindred to its nature was perceptible in myown; for, after surveying me with an air of more approbation than hehad ever honoured me with before, he grasped my arm firmly, and said,"Morton, you know me not; for many years I have not known you: that timeis past. No sooner did your talents develop themselves than I was thefirst to do homage to their power: let us henceforth be more to eachother than we have been; let us not be pupil and teacher; let us befriends. Do not think that I invite you to an unequal exchange of goodoffices: you may be the heir to wealth and a distinguished name; I mayseem to you but an unknown and undignified priest; but the authority ofthe Almighty can raise up, from the sheepfold and the cotter's shed,a power, which, as the organ of His own, can trample upon sceptres anddictate to the supremacy of kings. And _I_--_I_"--the priest abruptlypaused, checked the warmth of his manner, as if he thought it about toencroach on indiscretion, and, sinking into a calmer tone, continued,"yes, I, Morton, insignificant as I appear to you, can, in _every_ paththrough this intricate labyrinth of life, be more useful to your desiresthan you can ever be to mine. I offer to you in my friendship a fervourof zeal and energy of power which in none of your equals, in age andstation, you can hope to find. Do you accept my offer?"
"Can you doubt," said I, with eagerness, "that I would avail myself ofthe services of any man, however displeasing to me, and worthless inhimself? How, then, can I avoid embracing the friendship of one soextraordinary in knowledge and intellect as yourself? I do embrace it,and with rapture."
The priest pressed my hand. "But," continued he, fixing his eyesupon mine, "all alliances have their conditions: I require implicitconfidence; and for some years, till time gives you experience, regardfor your interests induces me also to require obedience. Name any
wishyou may form for worldly advancement, opulence, honour, the smile ofkings, the gifts of states, and--I--I will pledge myself to carry thatwish into effect. Never had eastern prince so faithful a servant amongthe Dives and Genii as Morton Devereux shall find in me: but questionme not of the sources of my power; be satisfied when their channel waftsyou the success you covet. And, more, when I in my turn (and this shallbe but rarely) request a favour of you, ask me not for what end norhesitate to adopt the means I shall propose. You seem startled; are youcontent at this understanding between us, or will you retract the bond?"
"My father," said I, "there is enough to startle me in your proposal;it greatly resembles that made by the Old Man of the Mountains to hisvassals, and it would not exactly suit my inclinations to be called uponsome morning to act the part of a private executioner."
The priest smiled. "My young friend," said he, "those days have passed;neither religion nor friendship requires of her votaries sacrifices ofblood. But make yourself easy; whenever I ask of you what offends yourconscience, even in a punctilio, refuse my request. With this exception,what say you?"
"That I think I will agree to the bond: but, father, I am an irresoluteperson; I must have time to consider."
"Be it so. To-morrow, having surrendered my charge to your uncle, Idepart for France."
"For France!" said I; "and how? Surely the war will prevent yourpassage."
The priest smiled. Nothing ever displeased me more than that priest'ssmile. "The ecclesiastics," said he, "are the ambassadors of Heaven, andhave nothing to do with the wars of earth. I shall find no difficulty incrossing the Channel. I shall not return for several months, perhaps nottill the expiration of a year: I leave you, till then, to decide uponthe terms I have proposed to you. Meanwhile, gratify my vanity byemploying my power; name some commission in France which you wish me toexecute."
"I can think of none,--yet, stay;" and I felt some curiosity to try thepower of which he boasted,--"I have read that kings are blest with amost accommodating memory, and perfectly forget their favourites whenthey can be no longer useful. You will see, perhaps, if my father's namehas become a Gothic and unknown sound at the court of the Great King.I confess myself curious to learn this, though I can have no personalinterest in it."
"Enough, the commission shall be done. And now, my child, Heaven blessyou! and send you many such friends as the humble priest, who, whateverbe his failings, has, at least, the merit of wishing to serve those whomhe loves."
So saying, the priest closed the door. Sinking into a revery, as hisfootsteps died upon my ear, I muttered to myself: "Well, well, my sageecclesiastic, the game is not over yet; let us see if, at sixteen, wecannot shuffle cards, and play tricks with the gamester of thirty. Yethe may be in earnest, and faith I believe he is; but I must look wellbefore I leap, or consign my actions into such spiritual keeping.However, if the worst come to the worst, if I do make this compact, andam deceived,--if, above all, I am ever seduced, or led blindfold intoone of those snares which priestcraft sometimes lays to the cost ofhonour,--why, I shall have a sword, which I shall never be at a lossto use, and it can find its way through a priest's gown as well as asoldier's corselet."
Confess that a youth who could think so promptly of his sword was wellfitted to wear one!